


Read it, Memorize it, Burn it

by velvetcat09



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ponytail!Hijikata, Slow Burn, Vice-commander!Sakata
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25549303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetcat09/pseuds/velvetcat09
Summary: “So, this the culprit?”A man with silver hair, a permy one at that too, enters the dojo with another person beside him. Instantly, copious amount of Shinsengumi troops calling ‘Fukucho’ in unison. Suddenly the crowd makes a distance, creating a circle with him in the middle. Suddenly Hijikata becomes very aware of where he’s kneeling.========Vice-commander!Gintoki / Ponytail!Hijikata AU+ artwork by me
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou & Kondou Isao, Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 29
Kudos: 191





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> let's hope i can pull this one. good luck me

“Bring him in.”

Hijikata is shoved onto the dojo floor, bruises coloring his body but his eyes remain with fierce intent. These Bakufu dogs, they were crowding him just a while ago. No matter how thorny his strikes had been, in the end he was easily outnumbered. The outcome was predictable. Hijikata glares at everyone in the dojo room. He’d thought they’d lump him in the jail cell or something immediately, but here he is, on the very place that he’s been sneaking into for a week now.

“So, this the culprit?”

A man with silver hair, a permy one at that too, enters the dojo with another person beside him. Instantly, copious amount of Shinsengumi troops calling ‘Fukucho’ in unison. Suddenly the crowd makes a distance, creating a circle with him in the middle. Suddenly Hijikata becomes very aware of where he’s kneeling.

“Souichirou-kun?”

“It’s Sougo. Anyway, this is the one that’s been trespassing our grounds for the last week. There’s no reports of stolen goods, we found him snooping the dojo, he usually escapes whenever anyone notices him. He’s got a thorny side, Sakata-san.”

That perm head bastard looks so disinterest with the entire thing, how the hell is he the White Demon of Shinsengumi? Hijikata directs his glare to said man, only receiving the same dead-eye look.

“So, ponytail-kun, care to explain yourself? I’m really not in the mood to do reports today, you know.” (Somewhere beside him, Sougo mumbling “As if you ever do our reports, Fukucho.”)

“Who you calling ponytail, perm head!”

“Pot, kettle. Why are you here, hmm? What’s the saying, isn’t it a hundred years too fast for you to snoop around the Shinsengumi ground? Or something like that.” Hijikata grits his teeth. _That_ , he can’t really fire back. Hell, but it _really_ frustrates him, the way this man treating his action like _this_. The Vice-chief is mocking him, rather than intimidating. If it’s the usual intimidation tactic, Hijikata can endure it. He’ll rot in jail for all that he cares, but this apathetic bastard—it pisses the hell out of him.

It’s humiliating.

“Oi, Oogushi-kun? You’re still with us?” He really hates it.

“Who the hell is Oogushi!”

The man scratches the back of his permy head and sighs, exasperatedly, annoyingly. He approaches Hijikata. “This is getting nowhere.”

In a swift motion, Hijikata is dragged on the floor by the back collar of his yukata.

“Oi! Hell—Let go!! Bastard!!!” Hijikata trashes in the Vice-chief’s grip but the man just easily drags him out of the dojo.

“As expected of a true sadist.” Sougo makes room for the Vice-chief and his baggage to pass.

“The rest of you, return to your post, or _else_.” His tone remains monotonous but the reaction of the Shinsengumi is something to behold. Everyone instantly snaps then scatters. That sight makes Hijikata’s stomach churns. He’s heard of the man, of course he has. The infamous White Demon of Shinsengumi, their Vice-commander. His swordsmanship is said to be unparalleled. No terrorists, be it human or Amanto, stands when facing him.

There are rumors of him being the Shiroyasha back during the Joui war. A proper demon on the battlefield. Same description as the Vice-commander of the Shinsengumi. It is said that his eyes alone could kill. If you ask Hijikata, he’d snort. Come on, even a toddler can put that two together. Of course they’re the same person. It’s just logic, even Hijikata is willing to admit to that.

Hijikata is now in the presence of a legendary samurai. He’s being dragged by said legend to a private room.

Hijikata trashes all the way to said room, yelling at the sadist of a Vice-chief, profanities and such. It’s his own fault, in hindsight, that he’s added more scuff marks on his skin by using the friction to impede the other’s walk. He can’t complain about getting more scratches because that’s his own fault, moron.

“Let me go! It hurts, dammit!” Hijikata hisses, hand grabbing at the one on his back trying to pry it off.

“Be grateful I’m not dragging with your ponytail.”

Many thoughts run through Hijikata’s mind. Before his train of thoughts could land into unsavory territory, he’s dropped on the tatami. The Vice-chief takes a couple steps more before dropping down as well, facing Hijikata.

“Alright. Let’s restart from the beginning.” Hijikata blinks at the change of posture from the man. “I am Sakata Gintoki, Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi.”

What’s with that serious air, _what the hell—_

“I’ve seen you around here myself, and frankly, I already know what, _who_ you’re looking for. So, if you don’t mind telling me about yourself, that’ll speed _this_ up.” Hijikata suppresses a shudder. _What the hell—how.._

“Hijikata Toushirou.” He answers with a glare, refusing to budge from his churning stomach.

“Right, so, Oogushi-kun,”

“I just told you my name!”

“I’m not in the mood to call your name. So, Oogushi-kun,” Gintoki repeats with a dismissive hand wave. His other hand flips open his phone and he scrolls through it, attention now casted on the screen. Never have Hijikata wanted to strangle a man alive as badly as right now.

“let’s see, trespassing, trespassing... Ah, here it is. Trespassing government property, ten years in jail, or ten million yen.” Hijikata jolts. “Disrespecting civil servants, two years of public duty. Annoying hairstyle, bad temper, that’s twenty years—”

“Like hell that is! You just made those last ones up!” Hijikata snaps, anger boiling his very being. From the face, the voice, the posture, the _everything_ of this man, infuriates the living daylight out of Hijikata. How the hell can someone be this insufferable? No wonder everyone calls him a demon, it’s not just his skill, he’s evil incarnate, for sure.

“That’s an additional three years of public duty, Hijikata-kun.” Gintoki looks at him with the same dead-eye look. Do his eyes ever look anything else?

“I know you’re looking for Kondo Isao.”

Hijikata freezes. Nothing is given from the Vice-commander’s face, nothing changes. But the air becomes instantaneously drops a point or two. Or maybe it’s just his skin, there’s cold-sweat?

Like being poured ice water, all that fiery anger washed away with that single statement. Hijikata doesn’t say anything, doesn’t know what to. For all that he currently know, Vice-Chief Sakata probably already knows him.

“He’s with the Commissioner for a week trip. You arrived here just in time when he left.” Hijikata tries his best to maintain that level gaze with this man, both hands clenched on his lap, anything to stop them from shuddering. “I know it’s bad timing, but regardless, what you’re doing is clearly trespassing.”

Gintoki flips close his phone.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

Hijikata can feel sweat trickle down his neck. He swallows. “W-what deal?”

“Join the Shinsengumi. I’ll erase your charges.” The man grins wide, knowingly. It makes Hijikata wants to boil again.

“Like I said, I’m not in the mood to do reports today. Think about it, you don’t have anywhere to go, right? It’s not so bad here, you get three meals a day, you have a place to sleep. Isn’t it a good deal?” Hijikata wants to scream. There are so many questions in his head. All jumbling into one mess that tangle even more with each tries to separate them from one another. Too many thoughts running at the same time. Stirred into one concoction in a pot boiled with rage. How the hell is this Sakata Gintoki the Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi?!

“You can meet Kondo if you join the Shinsengumi.”

Ah. That’s the line, isn’t it? Just like that.

Hijikata feels blood from his nails digging his palms. He hisses the agreement through gritted teeth. “Fine.”

Gintoki pats his legs once before standing up. He walks towards Hijikata and extends a hand.

“Shake on it?”

Hijikata glares instead.

“Fine, suit yourself. I have your words, anyway.” Gintoki rolls his eyes, then he goes for the door.

It takes every ounce of him to speak again. “W-Wait!”

The Vice-chief stops, gives Hijikata the same uninterested look. Hijikata gives him a frustrated look.

“Do you _know_ me?”

 _What the hell is that look?_ Gintoki’s brows are knitted at the center, his eyes no longer dead, but his lips tugged at the corner like a smirk. It’s a split-second expression unreadable by Hijikata. _What the hell—_

“Go find Harada for your uniform and stuff.”

There goes Sakata Fukucho.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hijikata watches from the corner of the room. From where he’s seated, he couldn’t really see the tray being taken by one of the guy outside of the cafeteria. But he hears the exchange preceding it so he guesses, the Vice-commander takes his food in his quarter. Hijikata gobbles down his food, bokuto next to his seat.

When was the last time he took a bath? Hijikata fixes his eyes on his feet, watching the water flows into the drain hole. He’s washed the grimes and filth off him, marvels over the warm water against his skin. This is a luxury. Back then in Bushuu he used to just wash himself on the river near the forest. After Tamegorou—he was completely a stray. He fended himself with the only blessing perhaps Kami has given him, his instinct. What a feral kid. They used to say.

He was always beaten to a pulp. Hijikata held himself for a good while in every beginning, but the end remained the same. It was always number. What can one person do, a scrawny one in fact, against a bunch of samurais?

Then the Amanto arrived and the war came. Everything was charred to ashes. Bushuu wasn’t as heavily affected like Edo, but Hijikata was around the borders when he was caught between crossfire. If it weren’t for Kondo—Hijikata doesn’t completely remember it, but he had woken up to a face. A samurai with deep laughter.

He found a discarded bokken and that became his safety blanket for the longest time that he could remember. He didn’t really remember how he found it, Kondo had said that he was found with that bokuto in his hands, clutching it tightly. Kondo introduced himself as a dojo leader, he offered to teach a thing or two with that bokuto. Offered him knowledge so that he can fend for himself better. He owes it to the man that he can survive until now.

But then Kondo and his dojo got called to Edo. Hijikata didn’t know the reasoning, didn’t even get the chance to see them off. So, with bokuto his only possession, Hijikata tried to save up money. He worked round Bushuu, helping with labors for either food or a small cash. He worked hard, in the end he managed to save enough for a ticket to Edo. He took the train the moment he had the chance. Leapt to the city with nothing but a face to search.

Edo is way harsher than Bushuu by mountains. This is what they say, isn’t it? How the city is much crueler than the countryside. When Hijikata first set foot in Edo, he realized he was lower than dirt in this city. He only had so much money left from Bushuu to last him a couple of days, somehow he managed to stretch it for two weeks. Between skittering the city policemen and not starving to death, Hijikata tracked down Kondo-san relentlessly. His pursue bore fruit when he stumbled across a scene on the road. The Shinsengumi had just neutralized another terrorist attack, and there giving the details to the news reporter was Kondo-san. He’d remember that loud voice anywhere.

But he lost his track after than encounter. It wasn’t until a week ago that he got his trail back and found the Shinsengumi barracks. He had snooped his way into the compound, found the dojo. He had hoped—he’d meet Kondo-san there. After all, he was a dojo leader back in Bushuu, surely he trained at the dojo. The week that followed, Hijikata ended up getting caught in the action, not a single sight of Kondo-san.

Then things happened with the Vice-commander Sakata. Then here he is right now, in one of the bath stalls, washing his hair with, finally, shampoo. He spends as much time as he can washing months-worth of filth. The last bath was back in Bushuu when he still had money for the bathhouse. That was so long ago.

“Oi, how long are you going to stay there? You’re wasting all the hot water.”

“Y-Yes!” Hijikata scrambles to finish his last scrub. He turns off the tab and hurries for his basket of clothing. He changes back to his yukata. He takes a sniff, immediately regrets it. He’ll have to wash it tomorrow. Finally, he has another clothes. Hijikata met with Harada earlier, the man showed him the necessities and had also returned his safety blanket to him. The worn bokken was confiscated when the Shinsengumi caught him. Hijikata couldn’t be more relieved that it is now back in his hand. As he ties his yukata, he caught a glimpse of white at the peripheral of his vision.

Hijikata dismisses it for dinner.

* * *

The cafeteria is a completely new territory, physically and mentally. It is packed with men Hijikata has never seen. He follows another guy queuing for food and he tries to copy what others are doing. He ends up being served an oyako-don set and he takes the empty seat in the corner of the whole place. Uneasiness tingles underneath his skin but the moment he sees a mayonnaise bottle at the condiment box, Hijikata almost breaks down in tears. God is still with him.

“Fukucho’s dinner, please!”

“Hai!”

Hijikata watches from the corner of the room. From where he’s seated, he couldn’t really see the tray being taken by one of the guy outside of the cafeteria. But he hears the exchange preceding it so he guesses, the Vice-commander takes his food in his quarter. Hijikata gobbles down his food, bokuto next to his seat.

Perks of being higher in rank.

Nighttime is surprisingly quiet. After Hijikata finished dinner, he watches the routine of these guys. Some are doing night patrols, exchanging reports with the day troops before starting their shift. Some are in the communal area, various activities inside that Hijikata can’t really follow. For people in charge of Edo’s safety, these guys sure are lax.

Hijikata doesn’t fit here. He knows from the very beginning. Sure, he can follow the rules and all, but when it comes to men huddling together with JUMP and magazines scattered across the tatami, Hijikata can’t follow. He’s just here because of that perm head bastard and for Kondo-san, he tells himself this again and again. He keeps Kondo-san in mind, and that’s how his feet carry him to the same dojo from the afternoon.

He takes solace in the emptiness of the place. Bokuto in hands, Hijikata begins swinging it the way that he knows. The only way that he knows. Kondo-san’s lessons are well ingrained in his brain and muscles. The moonlight casts a nice glow into the room and it’s the only other guidance for Hijikata in the empty room.

He finds himself at ease.

So much so that he manages to release all his pent-up energy from earlier. Hijikata takes a breather with his back against the wall. His muscles are slightly sore, particularly his palms, but Hijikata refuses to let go of the wooden sword.

With tiredness creeping in from the corner of his eyes, Hijikata lets himself sink into memories. His childhood is a pile of fragmented moments. Good memories, despite scattered into pieces, it flows from one to another just fine. However, it muddies into red when he remembers Tamegorou.

So, he doesn’t.

Hijikata tells himself, that his memory begins when he wakes up on that burned woodland with this very thing in his hand. His life began when he opened his eyes to a figure in muted brown hakama. Kondo Isao saved his life. Brought him back from ashes.

To think that he’d be meeting his savior again, soon.

Back then Hijikata was too late. Kondo had suggested about Hijikata joining the dojo, but he took his time too long to think about it. He should’ve just said yes, what else did he have, anyway? What else did he need to think about?

Hijikata traces the carved words on the hilt of the wooden sword, feels the crevices under his thumb. Somehow, some-hellish-how, Hijikata landed himself in the same place as Kondo Isao. Is now one of his subordinates. He can express his gratitude to his savior now by joining his force. He finally takes his place by Kondo’s side.

He lets himself smile.

* * *

Gintoki passes the dojo twice that night.

Once on his way to the communal area to tell either one of them to buy the new JUMP issue tomorrow morning. The door is slightly ajar and Gintoki almost pays no attention to it. He stops when he hears noises coming from inside the room. So, he peeks, naturally.

Gintoki half-predicted the scene. He’s seen the brat with that wooden sword. He found about the snooping guy first before everyone else, had noticed the extra pair of eyes when he was assigning last Saturday’s training routine. It didn’t last long, and from then, Gintoki noticed the ponytail guy only hung inside the compound for a short moment. The guy got in, sneaked around for a bit, then left. It wasn’t until the end of the week that Gintoki found the guy slumped at the alley behind the Shinsengumi barracks. Gintoki guessed, that’s where the guy been crashing.

And always, _always_ , that wooden thing clutched tightly around those jaunt fingers.

The second time Gintoki passes as he’s about to take a late-night leak. Out of curiosity, he takes a detour to see the dojo. He finds the door still ajar, but this time devoid of sound. He peeks in again, no striking movement anywhere to be found. But he finds the guy slumped against the wall.

Gintoki enters the room to check. His initial intention was to wake the brat up. Sleeping on the floor, with that kind of position, still clutching that damn thing; that can’t be comfortable. Gintoki might be a demon but he’s not _that_ demonic, he lets the guys read manga at work, after all.

When he leans closer to inspect the slumbering brat, Gintoki notices several things. His eyes lands on the wooden sword, he sees the engraving on it. He sees the rise and fall as Hijikata breathes in his sleep. He notices the small holes and torn edges of the other’s yukata, it looks thin out of worn.

Gintoki walks over into one of the supply closets and returns with some clothes. He drapes them over the other before leaving for his midnight piss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you know, you know


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His thoughts completely obliterated in a second when he almost screeches. His tied hair yanked from behind by someone. Hijikata drops his phone on cue.
> 
> “Hoo, they’re not wigs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okokok so i got really into it and write+draw this in one sitting

“Fukucho was right, huh.” Hijikata stirs at the noise suddenly close to him.

“Uh, new guy? Ah, are you awake now?” At that Hijikata tries to blink his eyes open. There are lights now, brightly so. He pushes himself up from the floor, sheets of scattered clothing pool around him. Hijikata frowns hard, he doesn’t remember getting these sheets. His hand moves on his own to grab his bokuto that had escaped his grasp during slumber.

“Wh…”

“Good morning, uh… “ Hijikata still frowns at the other guy.

“Hijikata.. Toushirou…” Somehow he manages to answer, with what little braincells that’s awake.

“Good morning, Hijikata-san. I’m Yamazaki Sagaru. It’s already close to breakfast time.” Yamazaki. Hijikata hopes he memorizes that. For some reasons this guy seems forgettable. He blinks once, twice, before standing up in a jolt.

“A-ah! My apologies! I didn’t mean to—”

Yamazaki stands as well, offering a small smile. “It’s fine, Hijikata-san. It’s not a big deal, people pass out in various places all the time, it’s fine. Though rarely in the dojo, that can’t be comfortable.” Yamazaki bends to pick up the messed-up sheets, of which Hijikata quickly helps him as well.

“It’s fine, Hijikata-san. You should take a bath and get breakfast. I can handle these. Oh, and don’t forget to meet Harada-san again for the morning assembly.” Ah, _hell_ , he forgot about that.

“I-I’m really sorry, Yamazaki-san. Thank you so much!” Hijikata gives him a stiff apologetic bow before dashing for the barracks. People are already leaving for breakfast, only one or two officers left sorting last minute stuff before they go on their daily duties. Hijikata goes for his locker, Harada had showed him last night. Inside is his issued Shinsengumi uniform. He has nothing else inside, he ran out of money four days ago and it’s not like he has any other possessions save for this worn wooden stick. He doesn’t have documents as well—he could’ve been in a much worst situation, come to think of it. Hijikata takes his uniform and makes his way to the communal bathroom. Mulling over how this sort of deal isn’t something that’s dropped freely from the sky. It has to be fate or something.

He washes himself as quick as he can, there’s not much time left for breakfast. He curses himself for falling asleep at the dojo, of all places. His hair is still damp when he stores his yukata inside the locker, deciding to wash them in the afternoon or something, if he has the time. He practically sprints as quietly as he can mange to the cafeteria. In his path, passing an officer carrying a tray with weird bowl of rice.

The cafeteria lady has to be a saint or some sort. Surely. She chuckles at him and serves him food despite being the last person in the entire compound. His face is warm, he can feel it. Hijikata mumbles a thanks and takes a seat somewhere in the corner. The place is mostly empty. Some officers still at their tables chatting and loitering, but they’re mostly done with their breakfast. Hijikata tries his best to eat his food fast without choking on the rice.

“Oh, there you are.” He ends up choking anyway.

“H-Harada taicho!”

“Relax, good morning, Hijikata-san.” Oh, _hell_. Hijikata washes down his food and embarrassment with water.

“Good morning, Harada-san.” He tries again. The captain pats his shoulder.

“Finish your food, then meet me on the assembly ground after breakfast. I have your assignments and such from the Vice-commander.” Hijikata nods stiffly, watching as the bald man leaves the cafeteria.

He’s the last one to put his on the tray station, the cafeteria is now empty with the last group out for their morning schedule. Hijikata suppresses a sigh, he tightens the bokuto’s strap on his hips. First day is never easy.

After a quick recall from memory, he makes his way to the assembly ground. There’s only one person standing and that’s Harada-san. Hijikata hastens his step, a sense of dread crawling. Is he really that late?

“There you are.”

“My apologies for being late!” Hijikata bows abruptly. He was expecting a scolding or at the very least an annoyed sigh, but none came out from the captain. Instead the man lets out a chuckle.

“I told you, _relax_ , Hijikata.” He looks up with a frown. “We’re not insanely strict here.”

Hijikata could only blink.

“The Shinsengumi might be a special task force under

the police department to ensure Edo’s safety against terrorist attack and such, but we’re not originally from civil servants background. We’re just a bunch of guys with special uniforms and katanas.” Hijikata watches the same kind of laughter like Kondo-san’s erupt from the captain in front of him. Something eases inside his heart.

“Though we do have detailed schedule and routines to follow, it’s fine if you’re late a minute or two every now and then. Plus, it’s not like our leaders are setting a good example themselves.” Harada sighs but more in the amused way while shaking his head. Hijikata perks.

“The Commander?”

“Ah, yes. It’s better if you meet the man yourself, that way you get a good idea what kind of a man he is.” At that Harada smiles big and proud, Hijikata understands the implication. Kondo isn’t a stranger in his life, after all, so he already knows. It feels good, though, to know that Edo hasn’t changed the former dojo leader.

“Now, the Vice-commander is something else entirely, but no need to worry, he’s a good man just like the Commander.” Hijikata raises an eyebrow but doesn’t voice his opinion. He has one or two at that.

“The Vice-commander put you under my division so from now I’ll be your captain. We’re in the 10th division, there’s thirteen of us in total now with you. We’re mostly in charge of the Kabuki-cho area but our patrol routine is split evenly between all divisions. As a police officer, your main job is to deescalate the situation should you encounter a problem on the street. If it is a suspected or confirmed terrorist act, immediately report to your captain. Officers patrol in pairs usually.” Harada pauses, scratching the back of his neck when he reads the next sheet of papers in his hand. “I’m not entirely sure why but Vice-commander puts you on pair with Yamazaki. You’re under the responsibility of the 10th division but for patrols you’re paired with Sagaru.”

“Is there a problem with that?”

“Yamazaki is a spy, he’s meant to work alone. I don’t understand what the Vice-commander is thinking.” Harada sighs. Hijikata recalls the guy that woke him up in the morning, he frowns. He understands it even less than his captain, given that he’s very new in this whole thing.

“Is he thinking of making me a spy?” Hijikata inquires.

“I don’t know. The Vice-commander is known to be unpredictable when it comes to strategy and such. We trust his judgement because it never failed us.” Harada folds his papers before putting it in his pocket.

“If the Vice-commander wants you to learn under Yamazaki, then you should do your best.” Harada pats his shoulder and Hijikata nods affirmatively. He’d do this best, indeed.

The captain takes notice of the bokken in his hips. “You haven’t picked your issued katana?”

“Ah, I’d rather use my own sword, if that’s alright.” Shit, he forgot to ask for permission earlier.

Harada knits his brows. “Well, if you think you can defend using only that wooden sword. But in your current position, you shouldn’t have to deal on a one to one battle, I suppose it’s alright for now.” Hijikata swallows his relief, his left hand grips the hilt of the bokuto, unconsciously.

“And your issued phone?”

“Yes, I have it here.” He fumbles around his pocket, rummaging and then taking out the flip phone. He hasn’t had the time to fiddle with it, was intending to learn around it last night but well, he _forgot_.

“Good. All the necessary contacts should already be in there.” Hijikata nods because that’s the only thing he can do about it. He can’t possibly tell the captain that he doesn’t really know how to operate it. He’s a country bump, for God’s sake. But he can’t really say that, can he?

“You should go find Yamazaki. He’s reporting to the Vice-commander last I saw him.” Hijikata nods again before leaving Harada to find his patrol buddy. It’s a good thing he knows the face already. What a convenient thing it is.

* * *

He stumbles around the ground, somewhere near the Vice-commander’s area, he’s sure of it. But there isn’t anyone around, it’s dead quiet as well even in the middle of the day. Hijikata huffs to himself and takes out his phone, he flips it open. He stares and the black screen stares back at him, reflecting his own eyes.

Hijikata chews on the inside of his cheek. Yamazaki-san seems kind enough, maybe he won’t laugh if he asks him to help with turning on the phone.

His thoughts completely obliterated in a second when he almost screeches. His tied hair yanked from behind by someone. Hijikata drops his phone on cue.

“Hoo, they’re not wigs.” Hijikata hears a lazy drawl from behind and he remembers the voice from yesterday. The guy lets go of his ponytail and Hijikata immediately turns to face the infuriating guy.

“You! That hurt, _bastard_!”

“You have a foul mouth, new guy. You should commit seppuku for foul mouthing an officer higher in rank than you.” Hijikata snaps shut despite the boiling rage. Can’t believe he’ll have to deal with two demons now. Is it not enough with that perm head from yesterday?

He can’t really say much anymore lest he insults the guy more; something he wants to do but Hijikata knows better than to worsen the situation. He’s already serving his own charges by being here. So, he glares instead.

The guy remains unfazed. However, not for long.

“Have I seen you before?” The other squints his eyes slightly and leans forward a bit. Hijikata jerks, _what?_

“Oh, you’re that guy from Bushuu, aren’t you?” His voice remains monotonous but damn, if his words aren’t slicing the atmosphere in half. Hijikata blinks away his uneasiness, _again with this—_

“You..” He tries to return this remembrance thing; have they met before? In Bushuu—this guy really knows him, then? Hijikata scrutinizes and that seems to help him trigger a memory.

Ah, right. He’s seen this guy before, sort of. That sandy brown hair, big red eyes. He’s seen him a couple times in Kondo’s dojo. “You’re _that_ kid?”

“Then, you’re Hijikata.” Damn. Kondo probably told the kid about him. Hijikata had never introduced himself to the dojo students, let alone to the one kid that was always inside the dojo. Kondo had mentioned him but Hijikata really can’t remember it now.

What was it? Sofa?

“Sougo.”

Both head snap to their Vice-commander standing in front of his quarter’s door. He’s fully dressed with his katana already in place, even his coat is worn instead of draped over his shoulder like usual. Tidy, except for the lack of cravat and that messy silver hair. Well, something has to still be in character, right? The man looks at the pair on the field. Hijikata couldn’t see much from the distance and how the roof casts a perfectly angled shadow to hide the figure. But he feels himself being thoroughly _looked_ by the Vice-commander. In just a split second, that is.

Sakata Fukucho walks away. Sougo doesn’t look back at Hijikata as he follows his Vice-commander silently. The last man is left standing stupid underneath the sun. What the hell was that.

“Hijikata-san!” Yamazaki’s voice snaps him out of stupor and he sees the guy approaching him from the room that was just opened.

“Yamazaki-san.”

“I just finished my report with Fukucho.” Hijikata picks his phone from the ground before placing it back in his pocket. His hand grazes over his bokuto and Hijikata breathes a little easier.

“Where are they going?” The question tumbles out before he can think through about it.

“A meeting.” Hijikata doesn’t prod more; if Yamazaki’s terse answer should be taken as a hint, he probably shouldn’t dig more.

“Are you ready to go? Harada-san told you already, right? Fukucho wants you to patrol with me.”

“Ah, yes. I’ll be in your care, Yamazaki-san.”

“Since it’s your first patrol, maybe we should just take it easy and I’ll show you around Edo, how is that? I take it you’re not from the city, yes?” Hijikata could only nod, bashful at his inexperience.

“Let’s go!” Yamazaki drives them around the city. After Hijikata fumbled with the seatbelt and got a helping hand by Yamazaki, kindly and without prejudice; the awkwardness pretty much melted away. Hijikata begins to loosen as with each question about the city and Shinsengumi. He learns that the other guy is pretty lax and well.. _plain_. Nothing in particular, he likes badminton, that’s the most that Hijikata learns about his new cop buddy. In return Hijikata tells him a little bit about his background, not without omitting a huge portion of it. He reveals only the necessary details about wanting to meet Kondo-san.

“Ah, Kondo-san will be back on Thursday, if I remember correctly. He’s been out for another interview. This time it’s way longer than usual since it’s on another planet, I wonder if he’s alright.” Yamazaki chuckles.

“Interview?”

“Marriage interview. He’s been through a lot, the Commissioner keeps trying to get him to marry. But the Commander already has someone in his heart so it’s always failed.” A hundred questions just popped inside Hijikata’s head, it’s almost dizzying. He saves those questions for another day, maybe even when he’s finally able to confront the man. Ah, that thought alone makes Hijikata couldn’t sit still. He pats at his sword out of habit.

They patrol—more like toured around the city until just before dinner. Hijikata thanks the guy for the time and bids himself for shower. Right, he needs to wash his yukata as well. It’s only his third bath but Hijikata is already getting used to the comfortable warm water. All bumpy thoughts washed away with the water, he wishes he could just stay right under the shower forever. Hijikata looks over himself under the spray, droplets trailing down his skin. It clings to his bone. He knows he’s very much lacking the muscles needed for daily basis, even more so for police duty. This is not a body fit for protecting Edo, not even Kondo-san.

He wonders if Kondo-san is okay with him joining the Shinsengumi.

* * *

Hijikata eats dinner in his uniform undershirt. This time he’s seated with Yamazaki instead of his alone corner. This feeling of having another person knowing him, enough to invite him to seat on the same table during dinner. It’s a new thing. Hijikata silently marvels at it.

“You’re not wearing the issued yukata, Hijikata-san?”

He blinks dumbfoundedly.

“We get yukata?”

“Of course! We get casual attire as well, it’s mostly for used in the barracks only. You also get training clothes for daily dojo training.”

“Training?” Hijikata takes a bite of his mayonnaise covered karaage.

“Every Sunday morning we get sword training at the dojo. The schedule is rotated weekly per division. Kondo-san is the one teaching us.” Hijikata beams slightly at that, finding himself looking forward to Sunday.

After dinner, Yamazaki shows him his issued yukata and dojo attire. He thanks the guy before changing in the barrack. Nobody is around, just like last night. Either in the communal room or night shift. Maybe he’ll get assigned night patrol one day.

Like moth attracted to a lamppost in the middle of the night, only that said lamppost is actually unlit and dark. Hijikata finds himself in the very same room like last night. He isn’t sure what attracts him, but it’s probably this bubbling desire to be stronger that’s pushing his feet, one step after another, towards the dojo. He finds the place to be empty just like last night.

Not entirely.

Hijikata jerks when he realizes there’s a figure sitting at the bench near one of the walls. Silver light casting from the window above, it gives identified lines on what would’ve been a blob of darkness. Because of that moonlight, Hijikata could identify who’s that person sitting, leaning back against the wall. He catches the glimpses of silver curls.

“Oh, if it isn’t Oogushi-kun.”

Hijikata grinds his teeth.

“You’re not watching variety shows with the others? It’s fine to read JUMP in the barracks, you know. Unless you’re more of a _you-know-what_ kind of guy, that’s fine too. Just read it quietly somewhere like in the toilet stalls.” Hijikata can practically _hear_ the smirk.

“God, do you ever _shut up_.” This guy really makes him bristles.

“Do you ever calm down?”

Hijikata bites his next remark, opting to clench his bokuto in his hips instead.

“Say,” Gintoki rests his chin on his hands as he leans forward, posture being propped by the shinai. “how about I make another deal?”

_What the hell is wrong with this guy?_

“If you manage to hit me, I’ll train you in swordfight.” Hijikata frowns in shock and confusion, his jaw is hurting from how hard he’s gritting it. “Just once, anywhere’s fine.”

He manages to unhinge it. “ _Why_?”

“Nothing. Just thought it’d be interesting. So?”

He’d beat the crap out of this guy. Legend or not. He doesn’t care. He really wants to just bash the guy’s skull with his sword.

Hijikata answers with pulling out his bokken, gripping it in his hands, and recites Kondo’s lessons in his mind. Gintoki stands from the bench, approaching Hijikata with so much leisure and not a care in the world. His shinai is loose in contrast to Hijikata’s death-grip. The latter takes this as an open chance to strike first.

He hits nothing. Gintoki sidesteps him easily and takes a strike to Hijikata’s neck. There goes his head if it weren’t for the halt just a hair away from his vein. Gintoki draws back, Hijikata can practically feel the smug oozing from the other’s face. He inhales, then goes for another strike.

Again, and again, and again, missing every strike. Only hitting the air, the floor, at one point he hits his own leg instead (that’s just embarrassing, dammit). Rage is his only fuel, driving him to keep standing up with each almost-hit by Gintoki. Frustration makes him desperate for even an inch, just a graze from the tip of his bokuto to Gintoki’s white unbuttoned shirt. _Why the hell isn’t he wearing his shirt properly, anyway? Is that distraction tactics?_

“What? It’s summer, it’s hot, you know?” Gintoki answers the silent question. Hijikata scrunches his face. _How the hell did he know—_

“Your eyes clearly asking for an explanation.” Hijikata swears his face is warm from pure hatred and this workout chasing the silver perm head bastard’s after image. He goes in for another attack, fully a believer of the ‘offense is the best defense’ wisdom.

Hijikata slumps on the floor, heaving with his bokuto used as a crutch to his exhausted being. He couldn’t face the dastardly figure standing behind him. Not a single hit, not a touch. He lost. He knows he’s no match to someone with reputation like Gintoki. But not even a graze— _how more is this man going to humiliate him?_

He hears footsteps getting distant. Gintoki is leaving the dojo.

“Every other night after dinner, starting tomorrow.” Gintoki pats the dojo door twice before truly leaving the place.

Hijikata uses every ounce of his last strength to not pass out on the floor again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re lying!” He glares at the captain.
> 
> “Nope, you’re on Fukucho’s duty. I said so.” Manners and hierarchy be dammed, Hijikata grabs Sougo by the collar.

He’s sore. The pain spreading all over his muscles wakes him up earlier than everybody else. He did pass out last night; but this time, thankfully, on his futon instead the cold hard floor. Dreamless sleep consumed him within seconds he hit the soft fabrics. It’s been astoundingly luxurious, for someone who was a country bump with nothing, no one; this kind of place, the opportunity attached to it, and dare he say, the hospitality. Hijikata pulls the blanket higher so that it covers half of his face and sighs underneath it. He’s more than okay with getting used to this.

There is still time. This he knows when Hijikata wakes up to a still dark room, untouched yet by sunrise. It’s loud, various types of snoring from all across the room, various smelly men as well. The size is three rooms combined with their partitions removed to contain almost everyone that lives in the barrack. Hijikata’s futon is fitted at the end of the third room, close to the door screen.

He prides himself for being able to survive in any conditions, he knows he has good adaptability skill, it’s how he’s survived this far. However, amongst the cacophony that is the echoing snores from dozens of police officers; Hijikata can’t fall back to sleep now. It was exhaustion that blocked all these noises last night, and he dropped dead in the dojo the night before that. Hijikata takes another sigh, inhaling and finding his nose filled with the scent of stale detergent.

Will he be a loud snoring old guy when he reaches that age?

He shifts so that he’s no longer staring at the ceiling. His hand reaches for the bokuto next to him. Like a child with his precious toy; this really is his crutch. It’s been with him through thick and thin, he’s survived this long thanks to this very thing. His thumb traces the etched words for the thousand times. Lake Toya; Hijikata doesn’t know where that is, or what that is. He’s never heard of such place, it’s not like he knows geography or what. That really comes down again to him being a homeless guy from the countryside, _huh_.

As the clock ticks by, so does his sleepiness fading away. Fatigue still laces itself around Hijikata’s muscle, _but what can you do about it?_ He’s becoming restless as sunrise is approaching. Admitting defeat, Hijikata peels himself from his futon. His back screams in pain even more as now that he’s seated. He ignores them, every one of the pain; Hijikata gets up and tidies his futon into the closet. He considers taking an early shower, hot water sounds really _freaking_ nice right now. A little stretching, Hijikata decides to check on his yukata in the laundry room, no doubt still damp. He’ll get that out for drying today. It’s fine and dandy as he picks his yukata until he realizes he doesn’t know where he should hang it. There’s no trace of drying area around the laundry room, and even if there is one, Hijikata couldn’t find the clips and all. What surrounds him are storages, annoyingly neat for a place filled with lax guys. Clueless, Hijikata ends up wandering around the compound holding a damp yukata. He almost considers just hanging it on one of the trees, but that would be really embarrassing, he can already imagine that.

He walks some more, directionless; which is exactly why he stumbles into the Vice-commander area once again. Hijikata doesn’t even recognizes the place, to be honest. He’s just about to pass the place altogether when he hears rustling and the infamous click of sword being sheathed back into its place.

“Sleep-walking or something?” Hijikata’s head snaps into the direction of that voice. That’s got to be a hidden ability’; to be able to piss someone off with just his voice. His eyes meet with the laziest pair from the Vice-commander.

“You’re ruining my beauty sleep, mr.sneaking-and-stalking.”

“Tch, who are you calling—” The door slides close in one swift move and Hijikata is left with unfinished insult. _What the hell with him again?_

Now alone, something decides to trickle inside him. He can’t put a finger on it.

Hijikata runs to drape his yukata back in the laundry room, then makes his way for the communal bathroom.

* * *

“Morning, Hijikata-san.”

Hijikata looks up from his mayonnaise covered rice bowl. “Morning, Yamazaki-san.”

“You’re up early, Hijikata-san. The morning-type, aren’t you?” Yamazaki takes the seat opposite of Hijikata.

“Y-yeah, you could say that.” He answers with a hint of bashfulness. He considers himself just like everybody else, nothing in particular with his internal clock as far as he knows. Though thinking about it, if the job demands it, he _can_ set himself as an early type. Probably. Hopefully.

“Ah, I don’t know if Harada-san told you already, but today’s assembly will be for all divisions. Every Monday we get weekly assembly by Fukucho.” Hijikata blinks a question. “Well, it’s not much, usually it’s just the chore rotation announcement.”

They all gather around the assembly court after breakfast. A handful are late, yet their Vice-commander is still nowhere in sight. Hijikata looks around amongst the officers, none of them are even properly waiting for their Vice-commander. Some are on their phones, some are talking with each other— _Are these guys for real?!_

“Morning~” The guy is half an hour late and shows no remorse whatsoever. No wonder the rest of the troops are all bunch of lazy guys, their Vice-commander sets the _perfect_ fucking example. It’s a miracle that this organization is still standing, even more so that people are still seeing the Shinsengumi as a respectable special police force when in reality they’re just a bunch of asshats. Hijikata feels like popping an artery.

“Here you go.” The Vice-chief plops a piece of paper at Sougo. Then he leaves.

_What._

“Alright, here’s the cleaning duty for this week. 1st division, cafeteria. 2nd division, communal room. 3rd division, storage room …” Hijikata tunes out the captain’s monotonous speech, seething from irritation. What kind of Vice-commander is that? Already late and then leaving just like that. How can that guy be the Vice-commander to Kondo-san? Hijikata doesn’t understand and _frankly_ , furious about the entire thing. Despite knowing it’s not his place to judge or voice his opinion, there’s no way a guy like that _deserve_ a place high-ranking in an organization like the Shinsengumi. No _fucking_ wonders—

“… 10th division, toilets.” The sound of numerous groans brings Hijikata back to the assembly court. Toilets, he means that dirty as hell toilets? Oh, wow, _perfect_.

“Ah, except for the new guy. You’re on Fukucho’s quarter cleaning duty.”

_WHAT._

Nobody pays much attention and soon the officers begin to disperse, returning to their own schedules. Hijikata runs towards the 1st division captain and snatches the paper from Sougo’s hand. He reads and double reads it; he might not be completely literate, but he can read enough and he doesn’t see anything that resembles mention of his name on the paper. He’s even checked on ‘Oogushi’ just to make sure.

“You’re lying!” He glares at the captain.

“Nope, you’re on Fukucho’s duty. I said so.” Manners and hierarchy be dammed, Hijikata grabs Sougo by the collar.

“Don’t joke around, you _asshole_ —That kind of duty doesn’t even exist!”

“Alright, I lied. Your duty is cleaning the entire dojo room all by yourself.” Hijikata freezes, hands letting go of Sougo’s collar. The captain maintains his unfazed expression, though something slightly glints in those maroon eyes.

“You like being in that room, don’t you, Hijikata-san? You already spend so much time there, it’s only fair you clean it as well.” Sougo’s grin doesn’t reach his eyes. Hijikata glares at him.

“It pisses me off, you know. You’ve only been here for a day and already _sparring_ with Fukucho.” Sougo scrunches his face slightly. “Even being offered a lesson.”

Hijikata doesn’t understand that tone, but his heart is hammering against his ribcage for some reason. He doesn’t get to decipher the captain’s meaning nor expression because the guy walks away after that.

* * *

The day goes by with Hijikata following around Yamazaki, the latter showing the rope on how to be the Shinsengumi 101, with additional lessons on becoming a spy. It’ll be sectioned into however long Hijikata needs it to be; Yamazaki is thankfully a patient man, bless that badminton loving guy.

They return to the headquarters earlier than yesterday, giving Hijikata ample time to rethink his own schedule. If his day will be like this from now on, then it’s safe to say he’ll be back from patrol around the afternoon before dinner. Previously, he takes his shower time first before going to the cafeteria. But now that he has that dojo lessons with that silver perm head bastard, maybe it’ll be nicer to take a bath after that. Plus, he’ll have to clean the dojo as well _after_ after that.

Hijikata props his chin on the hilt of his bokken.

Though rethinking about it, what if he passes out from exhaustion again? It’ll be embarrassing, dirty from day work and after-hour work. What if he passes out in the bathroom instead? That’ll be even more embarrassing, not to mention dangerous.

Hijikata sighs. He’ll have to think about it again later. Maybe after he has a taste of the lesson and cleaning duty first, that way he can do his schedule properly. Months ago—no, days ago, Hijikata wouldn’t be mulling over something as trivial as this. He’s a strategy kind of guy, he needs one to survive before. With limited resource, living on the streets as well, he has to calculate everything.

He’ll take cleaning a dojo over starving to death any other time, thank you.

Hijikata finishes his shower, then goes for dinner. He sits with Yamazaki again, not yet comfortable going for his own division’s table with Harada-san. (“You really like mayonnaise, huh?” “Nothing beats mayonnaise.” “A-ahahaha, s-sure, Hijikata-san..”)

He folds his now clean and properly dried yukata in his locker. Then he debates against himself again. Should he wear yukata or dojo attire? The bastard would probably laugh at his face if he comes in the hakama, all ready and eager for the lesson. Don’t get him wrong, he’s _actually_ eager, to some extend that is. But the thought of that smug face makes him want to slam the nearest wall instantly. The other side of this debate is wearing the yukata would give him an air of cool and nonchalant over the deal.

Hijikata decides on the dojo attire. It’ll probably get dirty from the training plus the cleaning work no thanks to that Sougo bastard. He changes then goes for the dojo. Doesn’t notice Yamazaki seeing him walk by through the slightly open door of the communal room.

As expected, the room is completely unlit. Couple days in and Hijikata can see himself getting used to this kind of setting. The moonlight gives a sense of calmness and security, it soothes his nerves. Hijikata gives it ten minutes of just standing up in the middle of the room waiting for this useless of a teacher before deciding to practice some strikes by himself. That guy has no regard of punctuality, honestly.

“Starting early, how very eager of you, Oogushi-kun.” Hijikata shoots the man an annoyed scowl.

“You’re late.”

“I didn’t specify a time.” Gintoki untucks his white shirt (this time buttoned, _good_.) and approaches Hijikata with the shinai by his side.

“What’s the first lesson going to be?” Hijikata maintains his original look at the man and Gintoki remains unperturbed as always.

“How about we sit down first.” Gintoki drops himself down and motions Hijikata to do the same. He complies with a questioning face.

“From what I’m seeing, you have trainings before, it seems. Your footworks and strikes are pretty textbook, despite how terrible they are.” Hijikata nearly snaps at him. “Kondo was your teacher?”

Hijikata wills himself to _not_ clutch his bokken. “How do you know..”

“I recognize the style. It’s the same one that he teaches here, anyway.” Gintoki leans back, one finger sticking into his ear. “Since you already know most of his lessons, you’ll probably ace his class in no time.”

The corner of Hijikata’s eye twitches.

“But,” Gintoki flicks the ear wax on the floor. “with the amount of divisions and the rotational class. You’d probably only get one class per month, two at max.” Hijikata inhales sharply, silently.

“I don’t think you like to wait that long to be stronger, yeah?” There it is. That smugness. _Bastard_.

Hijikata grinds his teeth. “ _Fine_. What’s the first lesson?”

Gintoki pulls out a lollipop from his pocket, unwrapping it before plopping it in his mouth. Hijikata watches with fury. “Start with Seiza. I’ll tell you as you go along.”

He wants to snap at the lazy asshole, but instead complies with the teaching. He figures it’s better to just follow than argue at this bottomless pit of a jerk. Hijikata recounts the lesson, step-by-step, he’s memorized it not just in mind but through his muscles as well. It’s something that he keeps on practicing even after Kondo-san departed. He does each step, brushing away the awkwardness of doing mokuso with another person watching (he’s only ever done this alone, this is prickling at the back of his head). He takes the next step and stands up, holding his bokuto. Gintoki watches through disinterested eyes. Taito, Nuke, To, Sonkyo—

Hijikata doesn’t get to Sonkyo because Gintoki out of nowhere smacks his shinai over Hijikata’s calf and wrist. He hisses from the sudden sting. “Start over from Shizentai.”

He gives it another go, following the orders in his head. He stands, draws his sword, takes a step forward, fully unsheathes it, then twist his heel—Another smack, same spots. “Start again.”

_Fuck, that stings!_

Hijikata is willing to give the other the benefit of a doubt and retries. He does the same, gets smack the same. This time, snapping before Gintoki could launch that ‘start over’.

“Stop it! What the hell, you’re just saying ‘start over’ again and again like that will help!”

“They say mistakes are the best teacher, right? I’m pointing out your mistakes.”

“You’re just smacking my leg and hand, bastard!”

“That’s because you did it wrong.” Hijikata really wanna punch the living daylight out of this guy.

“Then tell me the right way!”

“Nah, too much of a hassle.” His veins are popping. Gintoki raises his shinai so that the tip is twirling Hijikata’s ponytail.

“ _You_ —”

The tip lands on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, pressing. The press then trails to another one on his bicep, his forearm. His fucking knuckles. “Too tense.”

“Start over.”

* * *

Hijikata ties the tasuki around his sleeves before tightening the knot of his ponytail. He doesn’t bother with Gintoki at the door, couldn’t care less if the man is still there or not. His muscles are screaming, begging for more breaktime but it’s already getting late. He hasn’t cleaned the dojo yet. Hijikata curses himself; should’ve cleaned it before dinner.

He begins putting the scattered equipment back into the storage closet, picking the mats and piling it up neatly in the corner. Hijikata does this while mentally preparing himself for the inevitable mopping down. That one’s gonna be one hell of a job what with him doing it all alone for such a huge room.

His mind already focused on the cleaning task that he doesn’t notice how Gintoki still lingers by the door, watching intently. The silence lasts until Hijikata is done with returning all the scattered dojo equipment back to its places. He’s about to start with the rag when Gintoki finally speaks.

“I didn’t put you on dojo duty?”

The voice startles him, Hijikata has pretty much completely forgotten about the Vice-chief. He clicks his tongue.

“No thanks to that asshole captain of yours.” A glare and Hijikata returns to his mopping duty. Gintoki doesn’t say anything anymore. The silence is both welcomed and unnerving, so Hijikata glances at the door, only to find he’s truly alone now.

_Tch._

He mops as much as he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: research about kendo for a fanfic  
> also me: not starting the research for my final uni project


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I see, I think I’m getting the clear picture here.”

Kill him.

Just kill him, _honestly_.

It’ll be merciful. Like putting out animals out of its misery. _Honestly_.

From head to toe, the end of his hair strands to his toenails, he’s sore beyond compare. Every inch of his body, from skin to bone to organ, to _whatever the hell_ —everything is screaming in pain. It hurts to even be awake. Hijikata really _really_ wants to just go back to sleep, let himself be braindead again from the agony for like two or three more times before he admits to his duty and actually wake up. But alas, poor Toushirou, he actually overslept like everybody else in the barrack and now has to wake up along with the rest of the Shinsengumi.

He staggers to the stall, regretting not waking up early because there’s no more hot water now. It’s already used up by the others. Hijikata makes a mental note to _always_ wake up early from now on, no matter the state of his body, no matter the condition. Early bird gets the worm, more like gets the hot water. He was hoping he could soothe his nerve by having mayonnaise for breakfast but apparently, God thinks that Hijikata has had enough good things happening in his life right now, so God decides that no mayo today, Hijikata-kun, you’ve had enough of that dog food. All empty, on every condiment boxes. He even asked the baa-san but nope, not a single bottle. Second day looks promising already.

Yamazaki gives him a sympathetic look.

Hijikata doesn’t recollect much after that. His head could only process the eating factor, so he didn’t pay attention to whatever the badminton loving spy was saying. It goes from one ear to the other, drowned with the rest of the noise in the cafeteria. Hijikata finds it worthless to eat his breakfast without mayonnaise, but he knows if he doesn’t force the rice down his throat, he’ll end up regretting it at mid-day. Hijikata absentmindedly rubs his left ankle with the front of his right shoe under the table. Damn that bastard perm head.

He wouldn’t categorized himself as a pessimist, but Hijikata knows not to get your hopes too high in situations. At the start of the day, it looks like it’s going to be an unpredictably hellish one what with his addiction unsatiated. Running out of first day luck, or so he thought. However, progressing through his patrol with Yamazaki, Hijikata finds it pretty boring, actually. Nothing special, just wandering around Edo. Occasionally they take small stops at certain spots to scout suspicious activity in the surrounding. Hijikata uses this as an opportunity to flex his sore muscles.

“Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, Hijikata-san?” Yamazaki notices from the corner of his eyes. Hijikata stops himself from cracking his neck, it’s really sore but _eugh_.

“You could say so.”

They patrol some more, stop some more, talk some more, _ah_ , boring as fuck. It’s only the second day, Hijikata shouldn’t put on judgement so early like this but _honestly_ , Yamazaki Sagaru is a boring spy. His personality is pretty much nothing, he’s like those background characters in an anime that get screentime one or two times in a season. The fatigue really gets in his brain, Hijikata feels so unmotivated that he actually finds himself looking forward to the dojo training tonight.

Nope. Stop. Hold up.

“Are you okay, Hijikata-san?”

“Huh?” Hijikata snaps out of his daze. “What, oh, y-yeah, I’m okay.”

They return to the compound around the same time as yesterday. Hijikata repeats the previous routine of washing up and dinner. While eating with Yamazaki again, he finds the cafeteria still lacking mayonnaise. Well, there goes his naïve hope that the cafeteria got its refill during his patrol. Hijikata perseveres with just eating his katsu-don sans the condiment. His mind wanders again, it seems the usual-ness of this soon-to-be daily routine is slowly sinking into his bone.

The night then settles fully with Hijikata standing in the same dojo again. It’s dark and empty, no Vice-chief in sight. Alright, the guy is always late. Hijikata dismisses the lack of his instructor and begins prepping himself, this time he decides to do proper stretching to avoid yesterday’s mistake.

He figures he’s stretched for quite a while already, more than half an hour has already passed and the dojo ground is still lacking the silver perm head instructor. When the hour mark passes as Hijikata practices his swings and footwork, he realizes the bastard isn’t going to show up. This fact is cemented when another hour passes and Hijikata is still training on his own. He remembers the Vice-commander’s words. _Every other night_.

Right.

Hijikata stops to feel stupid for a moment. He actually crouches down to cover his face with his palm when realization truly sinks in, that he’s looking forward for the damn lesson. _Goddammit_. It’s lucky nobody goes around the dojo area during nighttime, lucky no one finds him with the tips of his ears slightly reddening (flush from workout, _workout!_ ) inside the room. The moon casting a silver light.

When he stands up again, Hijikata decides to ditch today’s training to pick up where he left off from yesterday’s cleaning duty. He picks the rag and begins cleaning the other half of the room. While pushing the rag on the floor, every bit of muscles straining, Hijikata argues with himself that this is also training and not some sadist brat’s sick punishment. He’s going to use this cleaning duty as his means to get stronger, build up his stamina and muscles. Hijikata pushes through his limit in the dark with moonlight accompanying. Alone.

Save for Gintoki who’s been there all along on the other side of the dojo wall, reading this week’s issue of JUMP.

* * *

The next day Yamazaki exclaims during their breakfast that Kondo-san is returning tomorrow. This alleviates Hijikata’s mood significantly, what with mayonnaise still out of stock in the cafeteria.

Kondo-san is returning tomorrow. This is said again by the Vice-chief on an unusual morning briefing. He doesn’t follow it up with anything, just leaves after he’s done saying that as always. Hijikata only gets slightly pissed from the good-for-nothing Vice-chief because the thing he looks forward the most is going to be realized soon, tomorrow in fact.

Throughout the entire day, his excitement oozes out from his façade. Yamazaki points this out when they are in an intersection, doing the usual lookout.

“You’re in a better mood than yesterday, Hijikata-san. It’s because Kondo-san is returning, yes?” Hijikata can only scratches the back of his head and looks somewhat sheepish at that. Yamazaki chuckles.

Maybe this excitement of him really is apparent, because he gets pointed out again by none other than the moronic Vice-chief. The lazy bum decides to turn up twenty minutes late, despite neither ever setting a precise schedule to this free training session. Perhaps it’s because Hijikata doesn’t look as pissed as usual at the Vice-chief’s tardiness, it probably doesn’t escape the moron’s demonic red eyes.

“Happy to see Kondo again, huh, Oogushi-kun~?” Hijikata doesn’t bat a look at the smugness of that guy who’s sitting on the bench.

“Shut up.” He continues with the swings. They haven’t really progressed much from what Gintoki had taught him before. The silver perm head only told him to keep on practicing the swings. Irks him, but Hijikata decides to just go with it rather than doing another looping argument. He’s not the expert, after all.

However, somewhere in the middle, Gintoki stops Hijikata and tells him to change sword. For a second Hijikata feels uneasy, gripping a little bit tighter at his bokuto. But eventually he relinquishes it for the new sword offered by Gintoki.

Hijikata’s hands weren’t expecting the much heavier wooden sword. Looks do be really deceiving because that sword looks like it weighs as normal as his bokuto when Gintoki was holding it. Way heavier, way _way_ heavier like probably the same weight as steel barbell when Hijikata holds it. How the hell did that man makes it seems like holding a toothpick—probably demonic strength, dammit. He struggles in his stance, his still straining muscle roars in pain as he tries to lift up the new sword.

He glares at Gintoki.

“You need to build your muscle. You look like the wind could topple you any moment.” Hijikata hates that lazy ass tone and look from that man. But he agrees. He needs to get stronger, so he has to endure this training. He _has_ _to_ swing this sword.

Gritting his teeth, Hijikata musters all his strength for a swing. He manages one swing, and then the second one, the third, the fourth, and some more. Adrenaline rushes all over him, soreness be dammed. The satisfaction of having manage one swing makes him wants to do another one. Hijikata focuses his mind to getting stronger so that he could greet Kondo-san proudly tomorrow. This helps him pushes through. So much so that he doesn’t pay any attention to the Vice-chief lazily reading JUMP on the bench.

After quite a while, a clatter echoes through the dojo. Hijikata sinks onto the floor, heaving with the sword still in hand; the weight is pretty much carried by the floor now, no longer by his agonized arms. Somewhere, Gintoki had fallen asleep with JUMP covering his face. The Vice-chief wakes up from that noise and looks at the pathetic figure sitting in the middle of the room.

Gintoki walks across the room, passing next to Hijikata. The raven doesn’t look up because something is thrown on his lap instead. A candy.

“His train schedule is around 4 in the afternoon.”

Gintoki leaves the dojo room and when he’s completely out of sight, Hijikata finally collapses on the floor.

* * *

“Hijikata-san?” He stirs, waking up almost immediately when he feels a hand on his shoulder rousing him up. Blue eyes slowly focus on the figure in front of him. Hijikata grunts, what is this familiar feeling—

Shit. He passed out in the dojo again, didn’t he?

“Y-Yamazaki-san—” Hijikata scrambles to fix his position, his eyes widen at the other cop. A grave mistake since the sunlight just blinds him almost immediately afterwards. The embarrassment of being caught for the second time helps subsiding the pain that’s shooting across his body. He passed out again, covered in linen cloths that he didn’t remember gathering again—someone must’ve noticed him then, _again_.

Yamazaki huffs a knowing small smile. “Okita-san assigned you on cleaning the dojo alone, right?”

Hijikata deflates at that. “Y-yeah..”

“Okita-san is a sadist, assigning a new guy with big chore like that is nothing new, but Hijikata-san, you don’t have to push yourself that far.” Yamazaki begins gathering the scattered cloths, in which Hijikata immediately helps.

“A-ah, right..”

“It’s fine if you don’t do it, you know. The dojo isn’t that dirty to begin with, and it’s a chore for an entire squad, not for one person to do alone. You should’ve told Harada-san.” Hijikata stays quiet. What is this, like being scolded by your mom.. Hmm, wait, no it’s not like that, it’s more like being scolded by your big sister, the motherly kind of big sister that always goes ‘ara ara’. Wait, is Yamazaki really this kind of person? “You could tell Fukucho, though.. Hmm, on second thought, telling Fukucho isn’t good. He’ll just grin and leaves you with the duty. Ah, that double sadists…”

Hijikata can actually picture that, the perm head bastard’s annoying smirk, obviously enjoying Hijikata in a miserable state.

“But, Hijikata-san, you didn’t pass out just from cleaning the dojo, right?” Hijikata stops on his way to the closet. He blinks at Yamazaki Sagaru who has the blankest expression he has ever seen on that man’s face.

“You’ve been training here every night with Fukucho, isn’t it?” Is this… the true color of Yamazaki Sagaru the Spy? Hijikata blinks again, frowning hard at himself for feeling nervous. Why is he even nervous about it? What the hell, it’s not like it’s such a dirty secret, right? So what if other finds out, everyone is free to hone their swordsmanship, right?

“Yeah…” He doesn’t know what else to say. The way Yamazaki is looking at him is as if the spy has all the questions and answers already. _Again_ , why the hell is he so nervous about this?!

The half-smile returns, clearing that blankness off of Yamazaki’s face. Though there’s a lingering hint of knowingness in that smile. “I see, I think I’m getting the clear picture here.”

Picture? What picture? What?

“Huh?”

Yamazaki puts the folded cloths back in the closet, Hijikata follows before closing the door.

“I guess I can tell you a bit of it. You know of Fukucho’s reputation, right, Hijikata-san?”

Hijikata frowns. “The White Demon of Shinsengumi.”

“Yes. His skill is really beyond normal human, even surpassing the Commander himself.” Hijikata’s eyes widen at that. Even Kondo-san? Really?!

“His strength draws a lot of people into the Shinsengumi, a lot of people want to be his disciple, even to be in the same battlefield with him seems enough to some. That man, when he fights, it instills fear to both the enemy and his comrades.” A shiver runs through Hijikata. It’s hard to associate that dead fish look with something so… _that_. “But he never takes a disciple, or teach a lesson in the dojo, ever. The Commander is the only one to have ever sparred with the man.”

Huh?

“Okita-san actually idolizes the Vice-chief, but even he has never clashed swords with the man.”

What?

“Don’t take it to heart, Hijikata-san. Captain Okita is just a little jealous, that’s all.”

* * *

Despite anticipating it the most, Hijikata— _damn_ , he feels really stupid now. For real, he went through all the trouble, all the effort and focus to search for Kondo-san. Following a ghost trail with only himself and a wooden sword (isn’t that impressive? Dammit). Even as far as joining the damn Shinsengumi—Hijikata finds himself excruciatingly nervous about meeting Kondo.

He spent so long trying to meet the man again and today, when the man himself is returning, when that person is going to be in front of him again; Hijikata finds himself chickening. He doesn’t understand where this nervousness stems from, where this uncertainty begins to take roots. He’s a hundred percent sure he wants to meet Kondo again, to meet his savior and sensei (briefly though it was) again. His whole journey up until this point has been nothing but about meeting Kondo Isao again. Why is he backing away now? Why is he doubting himself now? Is it because he wonders what Kondo would think about him joining the Shinsengumi? Does Kondo even remember him? Surely he remembers, right? That sadist captain remembers Hijikata, albeit in a more detesting way. Kondo must’ve remembered him, his thorniness had surely left an unforgettable impression on the man, surely. Though they were separated for quite some time, Hijikata believes that Kondo-san would recognize him. He has so many things he wants to say to the man, so many things he wants to know of the now Commander of Shinsengumi as well. Ah—perhaps, that’s exactly why. So many things, to the point where Hijikata doesn’t know where to start. What should he even say first when he meets Kondo-san again? What, indeed…

Hijikata doesn’t know whether it’s a curse or blessing when he doesn’t meet, nor even see, Kondo Isao the day the man is supposed to return from his trip. Hijikata remembers the moronic Vice-chief’s words about the train schedule but that information is useless as Hijikata has no authority in escorting the Commander’s return. Plus he’s still outside with Yamazaki on patrol during that time. He’ll have to just settle on meeting the man at the barrack during dinner or something.

But even then, even after Hijikata sits longer in the cafeteria, he sees no Kondo-san. Not even a hair of him.

That night he trains again in the dojo with barely a moonlight. The Vice-chief isn’t there to give him another lesson. Hijikata uses that alone time to mulls over what Yamazaki had said earlier that day. He starts his personal training with his bokuto at first, but mid-way he changes for the heavier sword.

That silver bastard.

_One swing._

So this is supposed to be a special treatment, then?

_Two swings._

This is supposed to make him feel special?

_Three swings._

What is that guy even thinking—deciding things like that.

_Six swings._

Who the hell he thinks he is?

_Fifteen swings._

Smug bastard. Offering him deals he can’t say no to.

_Twenty-seven swings._

Why the fuck won’t he leave his mind already?

_Eighty-two swings._

* * *

Hijikata still hasn’t met Kondo-san the next day. Or the next day. Or the day after the next day. Or the day after the day after the day after the next day. At some point Hijikata has given up trying to meet the Commander. He did see the man’s hair strand, though, don’t get him wrong. He _saw_ the man, but the man hasn’t seen him. Hijikata isn’t even sure Kondo is aware of his existence in the organization, to be honest.

He’s spent the entire week skirting over the Commander’s radar, Hijikata doesn’t even know if this is fate pulling tricks or it’s actually he himself that’s compromising his goal. Yamazaki has pointed out, helping him by telling Hijikata of the Commander’s whereabouts or schedule for the day. Hijikata always replied with a ‘thanks’ that reeks of uncertainty so much so that Yamazaki himself had snuffed it from miles away. The spy keeps on telling him of the information but pays no attention when Hijikata doesn’t act on it.

Now, the spy’s behavior is really the nicest, especially when compared to what the Vice-chief has decided to do—which is nothing. Not a damn thing. That perm head bastard brought the topic once during their night training and that was it. He mentions it no more and it pisses the hell out of Hijikata.

The Vice-commander has to have told the Commander of the new recruit, right? He has to, right? That damn Sougo probably has mentioned him in front of Kondo-san, so surely it’ll perform a chain-effect where Kondo gets curious and find him, right? Why the hell is this turning into a chasing game—

“Oi, how long are you planning on this cinderella game, _mayorella_?” Hijikata snaps out of his mind and almost drops the heavy sword. He latches on the new nickname more than what the other’s are implicating with his words, thus Hijikata finds himself fuming in matter of seconds.

“Who the hell are you calling _mayorella_ , perm head!” He hisses, as always, only receiving nothing short of a dismiss from the Vice-chief.

“Your obsession with mayonnaise is disturbing, you know. You’re draining a month supply of mayonnaise in just a week, that’s inhumane, oi.” Gintoki jabs a finger in his ear, looking irritated. Hijikata reddens, though. So the bastard knows of his habit—

“H-how do you—”

“I have _eyes_ and _ears_ everywhere.” Gintoki’s voice drops low enough to just be heard by Hijikata and that sends a shiver all the way through his back. Gintoki seems to have noticed this because there’s a small grin on his face. But the man doesn’t act on the information.

Hijikata focuses on the cinderella part to keep him out from thinking irrationally.

“Also, what did you just call me—what _cinderella_ game, what the hell are you talking about?” Hijikata focuses on getting angry, he refuses to be intimidated again by this silver dumbass.

Gintoki flicks his ear wax in the air. “There’s no point waiting for Prince Kondo to find you in that ragged dress, Oogushi-kun. And that guy is no Prince at all, he’s just a gorilla. _A Gorilla_.”

Hijikata knows that his face is red; he’s sure it’s from anger, definitely, yep, not from what the guy is insinuating with that princely comparison, absolutely not, it’s from anger, dammit.

“Mayorella and Prince Gorilla. _Eugh_.”

It takes everything within Hijikata to _not_ throw the damn sword at Gintoki’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanna just give you guys all the ginhiji content i'm planning with this au but i also wanna really make this a slowburn, you see my dilemma???


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you don’t have any work for today, you can come inside the dojo and watch.” Hijikata blinks at Kondou-san’s smile.
> 
> “Toshi.” Hijikata’s breath hitches.

That Sunday is for the 5th division training at the dojo. As Hijikata watches from the yard, catching glimpses of shinai being swung in taught repetition, he counts that it’ll take a month before he himself could get that lesson from the Commander. Sunday is a weird mixture of work and no work, Hijikata realizes. It’s a day-off for everyone who knows what the hell a Sunday is, which pretty much includes the entire world; but for a civil servant like him, every day is a work-day. When he was still just like everybody else who are oblivious to the work ethics of society, how it revolves around services, Hijikata never really gave it a thought. Sunday is a day-off, and that’s it. Now that he’s seeing it on a different light, he realizes how much he’s taken for granted, Sunday that is. The clerks at the convenience store, the traffic policemen, the postmen, the security guards, the ladies at department store; Hijikata understands the concept of work-shift now.

That’s pretty late, isn’t it? Learning about society at the age of… how old is he again?

His last birthday, when was it? Hijikata recounts and recounts and then remembers the sakura mochi he got from that old man back in Bushuu. The man knew him and his story, how he was thrown away by the Hijikata household, the tragedy preceding it. The man also happened to know of his birthday, because he always gave Hijikata the sakura mochi his wife made. Even as a kid, Hijikata has no affinity whatsoever towards sweets. But he was well-raised in terms of manner, he knew not to decline people’s gifts. And Hijikata also learned from early age, how rare gifts are for someone like him.

When was that? That was his 15th birthday, wasn’t it? Up until that point Hijikata could still count the years that had passed. The old man died the next year and his sense of time fully crumbled ever since then. He estimated about 5 or so Springs have passed. At one point he had tried to keep count of the years again, using the koinobori as marker. But that was useless because rather than being a helpful reminder of the passing time, it made Hijikata remembers his annoying story instead. He stopped counting after the 5th time.

“Stop spacing out in the middle of nowhere.” Hijikata yelps at the sudden yank of his hair, immediately turning his back and glaring at the culprit.

“That hurt, _bastard!_ ”

“That’s not how you greet your commanding officer, Oogushi-kun.” Gintoki tsks, he wastes no time in shoving a finger inside his nose to pick on his booger. What is with him and having a finger up his nose all the time? If it’s not nose, then it’s ear. If it’s not ear, then it’s nose. Hijikata dreads to think of what the Vice-commander’s nails look like.

“As if you behave like a commanding officer yourself, permhead.” Hijikata pats his ponytail, nursing the slight sting from that abrupt pull.

Gintoki flicks his booger in the air. There it goes, a cannon ball tossed in the air. Disgusting. “You want me to say ‘go commit seppuku’, huh? Is that what you want? I’ll say it then, _go commit seppuku, ponytail-kun_.”

This guy.

This damn guy.

“Ah, Gin!” Hijikata jerks at the boisterous voice of the Commander, calling from the dojo entrance. Kondou spotted the silver haired man and immediately calls for the guy. “How about a demonstration from the Vice-chief? Come on, you can show them a thing or two.”

Kondou steps a bit further on the engawa, his shinai over his shoulder. “Everyone really wants to see the legendary Shiroyasha-dono’s move.”

Hijikata takes a quick look at Gintoki who’s still standing next to him. The guy still has that blank, dead look on his face but something tells him that another thing is hidden behind those maroon orbs. Dead but, irked?

“I’m barely paid enough to put up with these bunch of monkey and loose gorilla, I’m definitely not paid at all to be a circus instructor.” Gintoki sneers.

“Oi, you’re already getting paid more than me, Gintoki. These guys already respect you more than I am. Which one of us is the Commander, actually?”

“Don’t care, I’m just here because of that crazy old man.” Gintoki begins walking away, waving a hand dismissing the Commander. “Monkeys should just learn from their own kind; a gorilla instructor is more than good enough.”

Hijikata watches the whole exchange and he learns nothing about this whole organization. He’s stuck in place with both nothing and everything filling his head. What is this feeling, this limbo of a sense between understanding and not, what’s the given word to this emotion… Ah! Confusion!

Yeah. He’s confused as fuck.

“He’s always like that.” Kondou’s words snap Hijikata back to reality and his eyes immediately fixes on the Commander. The man’s words are directed into the air, but for some reason, Hijikata feels like it’s directed to him as well. Does Kondou-san recognize him?

“If you don’t have any work for today, you can come inside the dojo and watch.” Hijikata blinks at Kondou-san’s smile.

“ _Toshi_.” Hijikata’s breath hitches.

* * *

“You look cheerful, Hijikata-san.” Yamazaki sits next to Hijikata in their usual corner at the canteen. Hijikata peers over the older man as he’s just about to dig into his mayonnaise bowl. Praised that the mayonnaise stock in the barrack is already refilled. It seems that the next day after he had that small complaint with (or was it from?) the rotten permhead, mayonnaise is back on the menu. Well, his menu that is. No other person uses it as much as he does, order it as much as Hijikata does. He wonders if the cafeteria lady will accept dedicating a single dish to his preference.

“Hijikata-san?”

The raven blinks. Wow, it really is that easy to ignore Yamazaki. He really just blends into the background and able to be dismissed in a single train of thought. If Hijikata thinks about it, that’s an impressive ability for a spy.

“Oh, sorry, what were you saying?”

“I said you look cheerful today. Something good happened?” His first urge is to blurt out everything at the other guy. The fact that he met Kondou-san today and the man acknowledged him? Even as far as letting him watch the lesson?

So much that he wants to spill over Yamazaki because the guy is a good listener, and Hijikata needs to release this energy from him lest he bursts at unreasonable hour like during his private tutoring by that stupid Vice-commander.

“They have mayonnaise again.”

“You’re very predictable, Hijikata-san.”

Hijikata digs in.

“I met Kondou-san.”

“You finally did?”

“Yeah, and he recognizes me.” Hijikata hides the smile that is threatening to spread across his face by stuffing himself with food.

Yamazaki smiles, looking genuinely pleased for the other. “That’s great to hear.”

Hijikata doesn’t explain further, there’s not much to divulge, anyway. He met Kondou-san, got invited to watch the class, exchanged a few words with the man, but that was pretty much it. Kondou asked about him and Hijikata fumbled with telling the truth, how he had looked around for the other, even as far as to going to Edo. Kondou apologized for leaving him behind and Hijikata replied with how there wasn’t anything to apologize for in the first place.

It eases him immensely how Kondou not only remember him, but also his name, even using the nickname that the dojo leader had used back in Bushuu. Only him and his late brother that have ever used that name. Hijikata had given it for Kondou to use when he was rescued and taken in by Kondou. To have the man still remembering him, with the nickname as well, Hijikata is so delighted that he happily trains alone in the dark dojo. He recalls the lesson he saw earlier that day and reenacts the swing to the best ability. It’s easier for him to strike with Kondou’s dojo style, it feels comfortable. The lesson earlier provides a refresher to his memory, filling in the gaps that he has forgotten after the separation.

* * *

“Mind if I join you?” Gintoki casts a glance at the other, not saying anything. Kondou takes the silent as a yes, just like usual. Gintoki doesn’t really talk much, if you truly observe him. He talks crash and dismisses people easily, that’s all that he usually does. Even as someone who has known Gintoki the longest in the Shinsengumi, it’s rare to see the silver-haired samurai bickers openly with anyone, let alone with a subordinate.

Kondou sits next to Gintoki on the engawa, both peering over the pond in the courtyard, gazing at the reflected moon on the still water.

“I asked Zaki that you’re the one who recruited Toshi into the Shinsengumi.”

“He was looking for you.”

Kondou huffs a smile. “Yeah, well, I did leave him behind. I didn’t get the chance to ask him to join back then because of Tottsan’s urgent call.”

The Commander looks at his second-in-command. “And you as well, Gintoki.”

It was the both of them. He was acquainted with Gintoki during the war. The Bushuu province wasn’t affected badly during the invasion, it was left mostly untouched by the Amanto because it was the countryside. Edo was the ground-zero. Gintoki—back then, everyone only knew him as Shiroyasha, was more of a lone wolf during his operations. As such, the man usually traversed the periphery of the battlefield to catch the enemy off guard. Kondou met him on several occasions when Gintoki passed Bushuu. Either on his way to the back of the enemy or retreating from injuries, the infamous war general had spent a couple times recuperating in Kondou’s dojo.

They parted ways, didn’t really keep in tabs. They let fate guides them. If they happen to cross path, then so be it. Around the end of the war, Kondou received a message from Matsudaira Katakuriko, the newly appointed Police Commissioner, a request of Kondou’s immediate presence in Edo. He called for Kondou’s dojo students as well (or as the Director had eloquently put it, “Any sorry bum samurai you could find there in the countryside, just bring them here.”). In Edo, he met Gintoki again, this time permanently acquainted with the silver-haired samurai. In the beginning, Kondou knows nothing of the Police Director. It wasn’t until Matsudaira told him accidentally that Gintoki was the one who recommended Kondou for the then Roshigumi.

When Gintoki doesn’t give a hint of starting the conversation, Kondou takes the liberty. He’s always been the one who starts it, to be honest. “He told me about how he worked hard to get to Edo. Toshi has always had a rough childhood. I really felt bad for leaving him behind.”

Hijikata’s hometown is a village away from Kondou’s own, but words travel easily back in those days. People know about everyone in the countryside. He’s heard about a stray thorny kid who picks fight across the town. Asking the local shop baa-san “What’s the deal about that kid with the ponytail?” and Kondou learned enough to know of the Hijikata family and who the brat was.

“When I first found him, he was sleeping on piles of trash in the alley at the back of the barracks.”

Kondou’s eyes widen slightly before relaxing into a knowing smile.

“So you brought him in.”

Gintoki doesn’t say anything.

“Just like how you brought him to my dojo back then.” Kondou leans back, propped by his arms.

It was in the middle of winter, Gintoki came to his dojo again. It wasn’t unusual for the man to drop by whenever he’s in town, but what’s new was the other person he was carrying with him. Injured and unconscious, the Shiroyasha brought the raven boy to Kondou’s dojo. The silver-haired samurai only stayed briefly to drop the kid before leaving for the battlefield again. Hijikata didn’t wake up to see his true savior, he only woke up to Kondou nursing his wounds.

“He still has that bokuto that you left him with.”

Gintoki wielded two swords like any other samurai back in those days. He wielded a katana, but the other weapon was something that samurai don’t usually wield, especially in serious battlegrounds. He had a wooden sword with him. Kondou had only ever seen The Shiroyasha fight twice during the war. Once was when Gintoki fought against the trail that had followed him to the countryside. The white demon was swift in cutting through all those Amantos. The other one was when he fended the small town against bandits that were taking advantage of the turmoil in the country to rob the poor people. Kondou saw how Gintoki wielded the wooden sword just as lethal as he was with the katana.

When Gintoki brought Hijikata to Kondou’s dojo, the unconscious boy was curiously clutching at Gintoki’s bokuto. Kondou didn’t ask him at that time. But after coming to Edo and establishing the Roshigumi into Shinsengumi, Kondou finally asked him.

“Someone like him should have a weapon to defend himself.” The Vice-commander stands up, walking away towards his own quarter.

Kondou huffs a laughter after the other leaves. It’s just like before, the silver-haired man’s answer remains the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhh finally updating and also able to explain a little further of hijikata and gintoki bg :'D   
> in this fic, hijikata is younger, i'm putting him somewhere around 25 while gintoki is just like canon, 28. kondou is 30, sougo is 18 while mountain zaki is of course 32 lmao 
> 
> yes that bokuto is originally gintoki's, he left it with hijikata

**Author's Note:**

> yep art by me (c) velvetcat09


End file.
